Weâ€™re a baseball family â€“ bleeding Dodger blue and/or enjoying Green Collar baseball. (Different leagues. Donâ€™t judge me.) But one of the muppets little friends had himself a San Jose Sharks hockey party today.
Now taking the ice: No. 2, Jackson Sawyer.
Sounds like fun. Now where can I find muppet-sized SJ Sharks gear to show our spirit? I had a brilliant thematic idea. I was going to obtain a Couture toddler jersey. (For those of you â€“ like me â€“ not in the hockey know, Destroy Couture is one of the Sharks stars. And Destroy is a great name for a superstar.)
Turns out â€“ they donâ€™t exist. And I was soon to find that no Sharks gear existed for tiny tots. Apparently the 1-3 set is not the clubâ€™s target audience. What? Is ice hockey concerned with the ability to walk before one can skate?
- Target. Newborn onesies. (Crazy to think both muppets could have once fit in a single teal Future Fan snap-up.)
- Winners. Itâ€™s a sports store. Or rather, itâ€™s a San Francisco Giants sports store. With hats for other teams. Except the Sharks.
- Sports Authority. The clerk happily pointed out the youth section. I happily pointed out that I could cinch their â€œYouth Smallâ€ with a belt to make for a fabulous black and teal dress. â€œYeahâ€¦they run largeâ€¦â€ apologized the sales guy. Clearly.
- SJSharks.com. The team website â€“ youâ€™d think this would be the obvious choice. You would be wrong. One goalie in training option or a 2-4T $50 jersey â€“ which both muppets would presently fit into.
- Amazon. Bibs.
- Google. Bibs, onesies, and â€œYouthâ€ clothing. Oh. My. God. If Google doesnâ€™t have it, it doesnâ€™t exist.
Dammit. Now this mission was personal.
Then, during the pre-game skate (or the day before the party when we ended up out to acquire Jacksonâ€™s gift), I was perusing the kid baseball gloves as a fitting gift.
â€œHockey party, Trish. Hockey. That is a baseball glove,â€ Jon reminded me. (He can call me that. Weâ€™re there.) Fair point. But I was still disgruntled that hockey hates toddlers.
But I gave it one last-ditch effort. At Sports Fever at THE MALL. I asked if they had Couture jerseys. They laughed at me. But they did point me to a clearance rack, where shoved in among the itty-bitty onesies and biggest â€œYouthâ€ sizes Iâ€™ve ever seen, were two (TWO!) San Jose Sharks shirts in a size 2-T. Lo and behold.
Game time was 11 a.m. The birthday boyâ€™s house was transformed into a hockey rink. Sharks vs. Kings played on the big screen and the rear of the rink was flanked by a giant shark bouncy house.
Every the calorie-burning growing athlete, Destroy (Stream not Couture) sat his little tushy down and began consuming pizza. While Jackson tried to sneak a sip of his grandmotherâ€™s bloody mary, my not-so-little man ate three entire grown-up slices of pizza. I stared at him agape.
And when I turned back, he had stolen two giant strawberries. He put those puppies down while eyeing me with an expression that said, â€œWhat? I wanted them.â€
Then he requested a puck.
At least, weâ€™re gonna go with puck since there were Oreoâ€™s labeled as such and I prefer that to the alterative â€“ which would be a repetition of AuntJâ€™s proclamation that she lives in â€œBumfuck Nowhere.â€
Oreoâ€™s instead of naptime. Because that seemed like a good idea. At least he instinctually twisted the cookie and licked the frosting. Smart kid.
â€œHey everyone! Someoneâ€™s here to see the little ones.â€
Sharkie was at the party!
An adult-sized stuffed shark in moonboots (er, skates?) biting the heads of all the parents. Why on earth would any child be afraid? The muppets were terrified. BEYOND terrified. I almost felt bad for laughing.
We left at the start of the muppet meltdown period. Theyâ€™re sleeping clutching their very first toddler-sized hockey sticks. Maybe weâ€™ll take them to a game sometime.
And someone tell the NHL theyâ€™ve got an untapped market out there.